BooksBarbecue
Back Reverie
Chapters (53)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Letter from the Author
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright
  5. Contents
  6. • One •
  7. • Two •
  8. • Three •
  9. • Four •
  10. • Five •
  11. • Six •
  12. • Seven •
  13. • Eight •
  14. • Nine •
  15. • Ten •
  16. • Eleven •
  17. • Twelve •
  18. • Thirteen •
  19. • Fourteen •
  20. • Fifteen •
  21. • Sixteen •
  22. • Seventeen •
  23. • Eighteen •
  24. • Nineteen •
  25. • Twenty •
  26. • Twenty-One •
  27. • Twenty-Two •
  28. • Twenty-Three •
  29. • Twenty-Four •
  30. • Twenty-Five •
  31. • Twenty-Six •
  32. • Twenty-Seven •
  33. • Twenty-Eight •
  34. • Twenty-Nine •
  35. • Thirty •
  36. • Thirty-One •
  37. • Thirty-Two •
  38. • Thirty-Three •
  39. • Thirty-Four •
  40. • Thirty-Five •
  41. • Thirty-Six •
  42. • Thirty-Seven •
  43. • Thirty-Eight •
  44. • ∞ •
  45. • Thirty-Nine •
  46. • Forty •
  47. Epilogue
  48. Acknowledgments
  49. Excerpt from Be Dazzled
  50. One
  51. Two
  52. About the Author
  53. Back Cover

“You’re not different,” Kane said, looking down. “Whatever you’re trying to do, just get it over with.”

A long pause.

“I’m not—”

Kane pulled away, suddenly. The people next to them stopped dancing, hyperaware as Kane left Elliot in the middle of the gym and dove into the bleachers to grab his bag. The jeering came, but Kane heard none of it as he tore open his journal. He was looking for the photo of the shoes. The white shoes.

The same shoes he’d just been looking at, on Elliot’s feet.

Kane found the photo and was instantly sure he was right. The right shoe’s uppermost eyelet was missing, same with Elliot’s. Kane turned, triumph blazing on his face, ready to confront Elliot, but the gym was empty. The music stretched into an eerie keening.

“Hello?” Kane called into the emptiness. His voice was muffled, like yelling into thick wool.

“Give it to me.”

He jumped. Elliot had simply appeared next to him.

“The photo. Give it to me,” he demanded.

“Where is everyone? What happened?”

Elliot’s phone buzzed. He picked it up testily. “Yeah, I know. I’m coming. Just hold on. What? Yeah, he’s here. No, it’s all good. I’ll be down in a bit.” He snatched the photo from Kane’s hand, looked at it, and made an expression indicating it might not actually be all good. He shoved his phone in his pocket and said to Kane, “Don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

“About what?”

Then, in a whoosh of golden shimmer, Elliot vanished, and the gym snapped back to the version full of kids shuffling to a racing fiddle. Coach O’Brien was shouting, “Please stop trying to dip Erica, Mr. DuPont.”

Everyone else in the gym was completely oblivious.

“Montgomery, you good?” O’Brien called over his rhythmic clapping.

Kane had no idea what had just happened. Clearly no one else did, either. Whatever space Kane and Elliot had just occupied, it had been private. And it was gone, and Elliot with it.

With that photo. With Kane’s photo.

“I’m going to the nurse,” Kane called, snatching up his bag and running after Elliot. If he suspected a connection to Elliot before, he was sure of it now. Logically, he knew he should feel fear, but all he felt was the blue electricity of adrenaline in his blood.

Kane ran into the hall in time to catch a glimpse of Elliot as he swung around a corner. A moment later Kane was there, waiting a beat before turning in case Elliot glanced back. Then he saw Elliot jogging down the south staircase, which was odd. Students weren’t allowed in the basement. That’s where the theater department stored stuff and where the janitorial offices were. And the boiler room.

The boiler room.